Between 30 Rock and a Hard Place
by SingsongRandom
Summary: Jack leaves NBC to start his own network. What will happen to Liz? Jack/Liz. Prompt given to me by disomy-x.
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**30 Rock**_** or its characters.**

**Author's Note: It's a really long story. My apologies, but in the words of Liz Lemon, "Creativity to me is like a bird, it's just like a friendly bird that embraces all ideas and just like, shoots out of its eyes all kinds of beauty." Reviews are appreciated. Enjoy!**

"How are the sketch revisions coming along, monkeys?" Liz asked rather perkily one morning.

"They're not," said Frank bluntly, "and why are you so happy today?"

Liz took a deep breath in and let it out quickly. "I think the real question is, why aren't you so happy today, Frank?"

"Who said I wasn't?" he retorted. "Did you start going back to that Dutch chiropractor again?"

Liz nodded. "Ja! But no, Doctor Vergoossen is not the reason I am happy this morning –"

"Watch it sister, he is my cousin," Sue grumbled.

Ignoring the irrelevant comment, Liz continued: "I'm happy because it's Friday. And do you know what that means?"

"The arrival of my official Harvard alumnus sweater and snow globe?" asked Toofer.

"We get to dance in our jammies?" suggested Lutz.

Liz's brows furrowed. "No and no. Toofer, don't wear that thing to work, or I might vomit. Lutz…just shut up, Lutz." She sighed. "It means that tomorrow's Saturday, and the deli down the street from my apartment is adding a new sandwich to their breakfast lineup –"

"You're making this sound like an important thing," Frank interrupted.

"It IS an important thing!" Liz snapped. "I'm setting my alarm clock for 6:38 AM, just when the sun starts to rise, and I will rise with the sun – I will stretch my arms in a big circle and I will yawn even though I'm not tired. I'll hop out of bed and wear something orange, because orange deserves a little love too! And I'll take the _stairs_ to get to the lobby of my apartment, and from there I will walk to the deli and order the newest item on the menu: two scrambled eggs, tomato, Swiss cheese, a dash of ketchup and a pancake on two types of bun – an English muffin top and a cinnamon raisin bagel bottom. And I will devour it. AND I WILL RISE WITH THE SUN!"

The Writers stared at her for a few moments, unsure of how to respond; Frank was the first one to speak.

"They put a pancake on a sandwich?"

Liz nodded. "I know, it's the single greatest innovation in modern sandwiching technology."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "It sounds mildly disgusting. I'll have to try it." Then he added, "Hey, do you think you could let me know when you want to schedule your happiness, because I think it really freaked Lutz out…" He glanced to the corner of the room where Lutz was crouched in fetal position.

Just then, another voice sounded, towering above the rest. "Did someone say 'Muffin Top'?"

A few of the Writers groaned as Jenna sashayed in. "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you all, but I don't take morning requests. You'll have to purchase my EP on iTunes if you want to listen from the hours of 8 AM to 11:30 AM."

Liz sighed. "That's nice, Jenna. Are you ready to rehearse for the pregnant tiger sketch?"

Jenna moved her arms in sweeping motions around the room. "I've never been more ready in my life!" she announced in her best famous-actress voice. "I will be waiting on the stage!" With that, she pranced away clumsily.

Liz dropped her bag onto one of the chairs. "All right, let's take a look at what we need to do in the next few hours…"

Just as she was about to sit and review with the Writers, Cerie said, "Liz, Mister Donaghy needs to see you in his office."

Liz sighed again. "Can it wait, Cerie? We have a lot of work to do –"

That was when Liz heard Cerie say, "Yes, Mister Donaghy, she'll come up right now." Once she hung up the phone (which, Liz noticed, had been bedazzled), Cerie said, "Oh, what did you want me to tell him?"

Liz waved her hands in front of her face. "It's fine, Cerie, don't worry about it. I'll go see Jack now. As for the rest of you –" she said as she headed towards the door, "Please work on those sketches. I know you won't do it, but saying it makes me feel better."

* * *

When the elevator opened on the fifty-second floor and Liz stepped out, she noticed Jonathan hunched over at his desk, weeping quietly. One hand was pressed to his face and he looked down, pretending to scribble something on a piece of paper. Liz craned her neck and took a few steps towards him. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked gently. Quickly Jonathan wiped his tears and scowled at her. "Oh, you're here; yes, I'm fine, _no thank you _for asking. Mister Donaghy will see you now."

Liz rolled her eyes. _Okay then_, she thought, and walked into the doorway of Jack's office, leaning on the wall. "Hey, buddy," she said. "You wanted to see me?"  
"Lemon, come in and close the door," Jack said with a sigh. Confused, Liz did so and then plopped herself down on Jack's couch. "What's up?" she asked.

Jack hesitated for a few moments. Finally, he admitted, "Lemon, I don't know how to say this…so I'm going to let say it for me." He hit a button on the keyboard and his computerized voice said in choppy monotone, "I am leaving NBC."

Liz chuckled. "You know, that almost sounded like it said you're leaving NB –"

Observing the look on Jack's face, she did not finish her sentence. Jack avoided her eyes when he said, "That's right. I'm…resigning."

Liz shook her head. "No, you're not."

Slightly amused, Jack picked up his head to look at her and said, "What?"

"You aren't resigning."

"Lemon, I am."

"But that would mean –"

As though reading her mind, Jack cut in, "No, Lemon, I'm not quitting. Jack Donaghy is _not_, I repeat _not, _a quitter, and allow me to make it clear that I did not just use a double negative, implying that I am a quitter, when, in fact, I am not –"

"Jack, you're rambling," Liz pointed out.

He stopped and sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, then continued: "The name 'Donaghy' loosely translates 'not a quitter' in Swahili – is what I am telling the TGS cast and crew. Lemon, I'm sorry –"

Liz shook her head, standing up. "What the what, Jack!?"

Jack looked around the room, thoughts once again scattered. "All right, listen, Lemon, let me explain –

"Don't try and distract me with alliteration!" Liz accused, pointing a finger and moving closer to him. "This is a serious matter!"

Jack put his palms up, trying to calm her down. "I know. Why don't you sit down."

Reluctantly, she did, right in front of his desk this time. He sat opposite her and said, "I'm detaching myself from NBC and GE to commence the development of my own network. It was suggested to me by Don Geiss that I should…seek other business opportunities at this time."

"I thought he was going to name you his successor," Liz said, and Jack nodded. "Yes, however based on my last conversation with Geiss, he isn't retiring anytime soon, and he advised me to plan an exit strategy. There will be, of course, someone to come in and take my place, and I will likely have a say in who it is, so you have no reason to worry." Jack tried to lean back in his desk chair but couldn't bring himself to totally relax, so he straightened his spine. He looked at Liz quickly and then dropped his gaze to the stack of papers on his desk.

Liz was speechless. What could she say? Jack couldn't just leave. Because he was Jack. And he couldn't. That was reason enough for her, so that was the reason she gave him.

"You can't just leave. Because you're Jack." She knew it sounded more justifying in her head, but she wasn't sure how else to respond.

"Lemon, how about I take you to dinner tonight and we'll talk this over?" he offered, placing his palm face-up on the desk.

"We have a show tonight."

"Afterwards, then."

Liz bit her lip. "Fine," she said, pressing her palm into his.

Jack grinned. "Then it's a date," he said, lightly kissing her hand before she yanked it back. "A date, huh? It'd better be impressive, Donaghy," she said, trying to make a light joke.

"Are you forgetting who I am?" he said, and this overconfident remark actually reassured her on some level. "We'll go to Plunder. Wear a dress."

"Plunder?" Liz said. "Isn't that a little extravagant?"

"Would you prefer something more low-key?" Jack asked.

"Actually, yes, I would," Liz said.

"Plunder it is."

* * *

The show went surprisingly smoothly that night, except for Jenna ad-libbing in almost every sketch about something completely unrelated to what was going on in the scene, but the studio audience still laughed so Liz didn't mind. After the show, Jenna approached Liz from behind, waving her hands in her friend's face.

"Jenna, what are you doing?" Liz asked, trying to shoo Jenna's hands away.

"I'm welcoming you into the club!" Jenna said, then erupted into a fit of laughter. When she calmed down, she asked, "Are you going out with the cast and crew tonight Liz?"

Liz tilted her head to the side. "What is up with you? One minute you're normal, the next you're completely off your rocker –"

"Doctor Spaceman prescribed me some new medications to help me deal with my need for attention. They're orange this time, because orange deserves love too. Anyway, you never answered my question." Jenna slid her hands into her pockets as she and Liz walked away from the stage – the studio was beginning to clear out. "Oh, no, I uh, have plans with Jack," Liz admitted, silently wishing Jenna wouldn't ask, but of course she did. "Oooh, plans? Like a date?"

Liz shook her head. "Of course not."

"Where are you two lovebirds going?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Plunder, but it's nothing special –"

Jenna gasped with delight. "Plunder! Oh, Liz, it IS a date!"

"It _is _not," Liz told her emphatically.

"You'll need to wear something very apple," said Jenna.

"Remember the last time you thought I was on a date with Jack? It was the very opposite of a date and I ended up making a fool of myself." The two turned and continued down the hall until Jenna ducked into her dressing room. From the doorway, she said, "Hey, don't knock it 'til you football."

Lacking a proper comeback, Liz walked away.

"Hey, Liz!"

She turned around to see Pete running towards her. "What's up?" she asked.

"I called Spaceman to see what he prescribed Jenna – he said it's a _placebo_." Pete explained. Liz's brows furrowed. "Wait a second, that would mean she's just acting weird for no reason," she pointed out.

"Acting weird for no reason?" They turned to see Tracy with Grizz and Dot Com behind him. "That's my thing! Someone get me a play Cee Lo!"

Liz and Pete exchanged confused glances when Tracy waddled away like a penguin, thus reassuring everyone that it was _his_ job to act weird for no reason.

"Spaceman's not doing some kind of strange social experiment, is he?" Liz asked Pete. "Social experiments are the worst."

Pete clicked his tongue a few times. "No, I don't think Spaceman knows how to conduct a social experiment. At least, not like that kid from –"

Pete was interrupted by Jack who tapped Liz on the shoulder. "Lemon, please get ready. We're leaving soon."

Liz sighed and Pete looked at her. She said, "I'll tell you tomorrow."


	2. Part 2

"All right, now tell me what's going on," Liz demanded.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What would you like to know?"

She shrugged. "What's going to happen to me when you leave?"

He didn't respond right away and after a few moments, Liz added, "I mean, not to sound selfish or anything." He didn't address the comment; instead, he took a sip of his drink and seemed to be contemplating the question in depth. He slowly placed his glass down on the table and finally opened his mouth to say, "Lemon, if it is any consolation, I plan to begin the new network – company name To Be Determined – here in New York before branching out and setting up stations in Europe, Asia, and eventually the West Coast of the United States."

Liz's brows furrowed. "You're leaving NBC and you have no real plan! You don't even have a company name yet –"

Jack interrupted her. "No, no, To Be Determined – that's the company name." Liz looked at him. "I'm not a creative-type like you," he said.

Liz looked down at her hands, folded and resting on the edge of the table. "You won't be working at 30 Rock."

He took a deep breath. "I will make sure that my replacement treats you with the same care and respect with which I do."

She picked her head up and looked at him. "Oh, really? Is your replacement going to be someone I can talk to about all my problems? Is it going to be someone who always knows what I'm about to say before I say it? Is it going to be someone I can count on for anything? No. Do you know how I know that? Because that's _you_, Jack! There's only one person I can talk to about anything! Not Jenna, not Pete, it's _you_! So yeah, that's going to be a lot of fun. First Floyd leaves, now _you_!"

At this point Liz was a mixture of anger and confusion and she hadn't realized that she'd stood up during her rant. She looked around quickly and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"People are staring, Lemon," said Jack quietly.

Liz heaved a sigh and plopped down on the chair. "Jack, don't leave."

Jack shook his head. "There are papers being signed as we speak transferring me from NBC to TBD. This isn't easy for me, Lemon, and I'm sorry."

Liz looked defeated. "I want to go. Now."

Jack stood up. "Very well."

The limo ride back to Liz's apartment was quiet. When they arrived at Riverside Drive, Jack walked Liz to the door. "Lemon, I really am sorry," he said. Liz nodded. "Yeah."

Jack looked at her for a few moments and leaned in slightly. She inched away. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jack."

* * *

"Miss Maroney!" Kenneth greeted when he saw Jenna hurrying toward him. "How are you this fine morning?"

Instead of answering him, she immediately started running her hands through his hair.

"Miss Maroney?" Kenneth said. "Why are you –"

"Because it's so honey-golden!" Jenna said, as though it made sense.

Slightly uncomfortable, Kenneth piped up, "Miss Maroney, I think I should tell you that your medication is actually –"

Pete was passing by just then, and overhearing the conversation, he grabbed Kenneth by the arm and pulled him out of Jenna's clutches. "She can't know that it's a placebo!" he hissed.

Kenneth's eyes widened. "But why not, Mister Hornberger? After all, she's acting stranger than usual. Don't you think we should tell her so that she can go back to being the normal Miss Maroney that we all know and love?"

Pete looked at him for a moment. "Are we talking about the same person?"

They glanced over to see Jenna doing some sort of interpretive dance. Pete whispered to Kenneth, "Since she thinks she's on the anti-diva drug, she's actually letting us get some work done. She shows up to rehearsal on time and mostly does the sketches right. And she's not begging for attention all the time! Kenneth, please, just let me have this."

Kenneth sighed. "It just seems wrong –"

"It doesn't matter, Kenneth, okay!? For the first time since we've been working here, Jenna isn't making my life miserable while she scrambles to find the spotlight! So just…let it go, okay?"

The page nodded and looked down, but said nothing else. Pete walked away, and Kenneth looked at Jenna, who was pretending to be a bird. She spread out her arms and ran around in a circle for a few moments, then perched herself on the stairs. "Uh-oh…I think I'm starting to feel some sort of adverse affect…"


	3. Part 3

It had been one week since Jack left NBC.

He and Liz had shared brief but sincere goodbyes and parted with a hug. The day before he walked out of his office for good, the two friends had had a long conversation.

_"Lemon, I'm not sure I can do this."_

_"Why? You've just changed your mind out of nowhere?"_

_Jack grinned. "Not out of nowhere. I don't_want _to leave you, Lemon –"_

_He'd clearly heard it, because he corrected himself. "Ahem, I mean – the company. I don't want to leave the company…I've established some wonderful friendships here," he added. _

_Liz smiled and nodded. "But you have to go."_

_Jack's brows furrowed. "What makes you say that?"_

_"Lots of reasons," Liz told him, "For yourself. I'm sure you'll be very successful at the new network. I mean, you're Jack Donaghy. And hey, with you leaving I'll have to work things out myself. It's like taking the training wheels off a bike; you're the training wheels, and I'm the bike." She paused for a moment, then continued: "You've got to listen to your mentor, right? I've been taking your advice and look how far I've come in a few short years. If Geiss says this is what you should do, it must be the right move."_

_Jack looked solemn. "There's a fine line between listening to advice and letting someone else make your decisions for you."_

_Liz shrugged. "I don't think you'll regret it, Jack. I'll learn how to manage without having you here, so if you're worried about me – don't be. Okay? You can do this, Jack, you're…not a quitter."_

Liz herself was less than thrilled. Jack's replacement had no interest in NBC but he was the only one who had the qualifications required for the job. Liz knew next to nothing about the man other than that his name was Mr. Johnson (which really didn't help at all), and he'd never even met with her to discuss TGS. She was pretty sure that Mr. Johnson didn't even know who she was or that they worked in the _same building_.

So that day Liz took the elevator up to the fifty-second floor to meet with Mr. Johnson. When the doors opened and she stepped out, Jonathan gave her no more than a glance.

"What, no snide remark today?" Liz inquired. "No 'Ew, look what the elevator spat up'? No nothing?"

Jonathan looked up at her and sighed. "I'm indifferent to you now."

"And why's that?"

"Because now you can't steal Mister Donaghy away from me. If I can't have him, it's comforting to know that you can't, either." He smirked.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Is Mister Johnson in – his office?"

Jonathan nodded. "You can go in."

Liz turned and knocked on the office door, then walked in without waiting for a response. She was greeted with the sight of a lanky, thirty-something man with thinning blonde hair sitting back in his desk chair with a Sudoku book.

"Hi, Mister Johnson?" Liz said somewhat timidly. The man didn't look up. She cleared her throat and said a little louder, "Excuse me, sir –"

"What is it?" he said, tossing the word game on the desk. "I can't even get through one puzzle without someone interrupting me."

Liz tilted her head to the side. Was this man the anti-Jack?

"O-okay," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Well, uhm, I'm Elizabeth Lemon."

"Congratulations," said Mr. Johnson, clearly unimpressed.

"I work downstairs at TGS – on the sixth floor?"

"Never heard of it," replied the man unenthusiastically.

Liz jutted her jaw outward. "It's an NBC program," she told him. "Anyway, I just came up here to introduce myself -" She stepped forward and extended her hand to shake, but he merely looked at it and shooed it away.

"What do you need, Ms. Lime?"

"Lemon," Liz corrected quickly. "It's Lemon. You can call me Liz. Uh, I thought you might want to discuss the show or something –"

Mr. Johnson scratched his face. "Why would I want to do that? I've never even heard of it. How can I discuss something if I know nothing about it?"

Liz was growing impatient. Not only was this man unprofessional, but he was insulting! _Jack would never stand for this sort of thing_, she thought.

* * *

_"And we'll still talk and stuff. We can hang out. We don't have to work in the same place to be friends," she said._

_Jack nodded. "I know."_

_That didn't change the one thing that bothered Jack – he was going to miss her._

_"I'll miss you, Jack."_

_"Maybe I can get out of this," he mumbled. There had to be a way; he could work it out somehow – he was Jack Donaghy! Maybe he could talk to Geiss and fix everything. He could stay at NBC and everything would work out all right. _

_"No," Liz said, "You…should move on. You can't spend the rest of your life here at NBC, can you?"_

_Jack sighed. "I suppose you're right, Lemon…I'll miss you too."_

He picked up his cell phone to call her, but decided against it. It was the middle of the day; she was probably running around like a crazy person trying to get Tracy's head unstuck from a jar.

A text would be better, he thought.

**Jack: Hello Lemon. How are you doing?**

**Sent 2:38 P.M.**

* * *

Liz started chewing her lower lip. "Mr. Johnson, if now isn't a good time I could come back later and we could just talk about a strategy, maybe, to…boost ratings for the show?"

Mr. Johnson stood up. "That won't be necessary, Ms. Lemon."

Liz shook her head. "What the what!?" she exclaimed. "You're the Vice President of East Coast television and microwave oven programming! You can't just sit here playing Sudoku all day!"

Mr. Johnson looked surprised. "You're right. I can't just play Sudoku all day…Where's my crossword puzzle?"

Liz's eyes widened. "You're supposed to be a _businessman_! You're supposed to be drawing up plans and crossing I's and dotting T's –"

"Do _not _try and fool me with logic, Ms. Lemon! I learned the full twenty-six letter alphabet in my second year of high school." He narrowed his eyes. "Listen. I know Jack Donaghy was your mentor, your confidant. But he doesn't run this company anymore, I do. Thou, therefore, canst not tell me how I ought conduct this company!"

Liz's brows furrowed. "Huh?"

Mr. Johnson gasped and looked devastated. "You've found me out – oh, for shame! I didst not foresee this wretched event!"

"Huh?"

Mr. Johnson sighed and moved over to a blue beanbag chair in the corner of the office and plopped down. "I'm _not _a businessman. I'm an actor – a Shakespearean actor and I am _proud _of it! I'm also a part-time taxidermist."

Liz put her hands on her head, at a loss for words. "You're – you – but – Jack said – you're unfit for your position!" There were lots of thoughts swimming around in her head, but the most prominent one of all was, _How could Jack let this guy replace him? _

"I'm reporting you to Don Geiss," Liz said aloud, which was a mistake. Mr. Johnson rose from the beanbag chair – well, he attempted to twice but sank into it further, then finally pulled himself up.

"You can't do that, Ms. Lemon," he said in a gravelly voice (Liz would never understand how anyone in a position of power at NBC could do the gravelly voice). "My current salary as VP of East Coast television and microwave oven programming is my only leg to stand on while I'm waiting for my acting career to take off. Or my taxidermy career. Whichever comes first."

Liz took a deep breath. _What would Jack tell you to do? _"No," she said. "I'm telling Geiss that he needs to fix this." She turned on her heel and headed towards the door.

"TGS is cancelled!" Mr. Johnson called. Liz spun around. "What the what?"

The man nodded. "You heard me. Your little show is cancelled. So tell your cast and crew to pack up. Just like Jack Donaghy, you're being replaced."

Liz clenched her hands into fists. "You can't do that!"

Mr. Johnson had crazy eyes. "Oh, yes I can! TGS's ratings are in the toilet. It won't matter if it's taken off NBC's lineup."

"You said you'd never heard of the show! How do you know its ratings?"

"If I've never heard of it, clearly it hasn't got the ratings!" Mr. Johnson shouted. "Ms. Lemon, I have made my final decision. TGS is officially off the air!"

With no argument, Liz stormed out of the office and pulled her phone out of her pocket. There was only one thing left to do.

**Liz: Jack. Executive emergency. Need you at 30 Rock. NOW!**

**Sent 2:54 P.M.**


	4. Part 4

"Kenneth, where is Jenna?" asked Pete urgently. "She's not in her dressing room, she's not downstairs in Fallon's dressing room – I can't find her anywhere!"

Kenneth shrugged. "I haven't seen her, Mister Hornberger. But I'm sure she's around here somewhere! I'll help you look for her."

As they shoved past people and props in the hall, Pete said, "You didn't tell her that her medication is a placebo, did you?"

Kenneth shook his head. "No sir, Mister Hornberger, sir! Though quite frankly, I'm still a little disappointed in both you and myself that we haven't -"

"If she's faking her own death again –" Pete stopped speaking when he and Kenneth turned the corner and saw Jenna at the end of the hall, curled up against a wall.

"What are you doing over here, Miss Maroney?" asked Kenneth.

"Come on, Jenna, we need you onstage to rehearse," said Pete, extending a hand to help her up.

Jenna looked up at the two of them with big eyes, appearing to be in a trance-like state. "Oh, hello," she said slowly, and Pete wondered if somehow she had been possessed by Mister Rogers. "I was just engaged in a game of Go-Fish with my feline friend, Edward Cullen." She motioned to the air and giggled. "Oh, Edward, you are too funny!"

Kenneth and Pete exchanged worried glances. The page leaned over and whispered in Pete's ear, "Mister Hornberger, I think it's time to tell her now -"

Pete ignored him. "Stop playing around, Jenna, seriously. Time to go rehearse."

Jenna breathed in and filled her cheeks up with air, then exhaled, laughing. "Naw," she said with a sigh, "Tracy's the real star. He should do the show all by hisself…" She yawned, then started to flap her arms. "Tracy is the real star, after all. I wouldn't wanna take his spotlight. He's worked so hard all these years. I don't think people want to see me on TV anymore." She rose to her feet. "Ya know what? That's a good idea. I don't want to be on television anymore. I quit." She started to walk away. "Bye, clean Shaggy. Bye, Kramer."

Pete looked puzzled. "Mister Hornberger, are you sure she's taking a placebo? She seems to be having some kind of reaction to her medication. Remember when it happened to Mr. Jordan?"

Pete grunted. "No, I know exactly what she's doing. She must know the pills are fakes. She's doing this on _purpose_ so that we'll have to call Spaceman and everyone will worry about her. It's all a trick, Kenneth. She's not really quitting." He sighed. "I'll have to call Spaceman anyway, he's going to want to document this. Or…something."

* * *

"Benjamin, take me to 30 Rock," Jack said to his driver, "and hurry."

* * *

"Nice going," Jonathan hissed when Liz walked out of Mr. Johnson's office. "What are you going to tell your crew?"

Liz opened her mouth to say something rude, but closed it and shook her head. "You're not worth my wit," she grumbled, heading towards the elevator.

What _was _she going to say to the cast and crew, though? Surely Jack could help her. Because he was Jack.

And that was reason enough for her.

She tried calling him once she stepped off the elevator but he didn't pick up, and she instantly became anxious. What if he'd left his phone in Donald Trump's office? What if he'd been kidnapped by a professional dog walker? What if he'd forgotten about her already?

The third thought was the one that worried her the most. But he couldn't have, she told herself, remembering he'd checked in on her via text message.

Liz quickly made her way towards the Writer's Room. "Hey, guys," she said when she walked in, "I uh – well, I just spoke to the boss, and, uh…Well, _until my reinforcement arrives_, uh, TGS has been kind of, sort of…halted."

Frank said, "So you mean cancelled?"

Liz hesitated. "Well, uh…I guess 'cancelled' would be the technical term, but -"

"All right! No more TGS means no more work!" The writers cheered.

Toofer, the voice of reason, chimed in, "No, actually, the cancellation of TGS means that we're all out of work." Receiving no reaction from the writers, he added, "Which means we're not making any money."

Then they started to boo and hiss. "Guys, guys! Calm down," Liz commanded, and one of the writers threw a roll of tape at her. "Really, Sue?" Liz said. She sighed. "Everyone just needs to listen -"

"Come on, you guys, we've got to tell everyone else," said Frank, "so that they know to start job-hunting. See," he said to Liz as the writers ran out, "I can be a good person."

Liz bit her lip. "Blërg."

"Liz!" Pete called and hurried towards her. "Frank said something about TGS being cancelled. Where'd he get that idea?"

Liz sucked in some air. "Well, you see –"

"You got TGS cancelled!?" Pete exclaimed, eyes wide. "What did you do?"

Liz's jaw dropped. "No, this is _not_ my fault! They can't blame me for this. _I_ was just stating the facts -"

"Yeah, look how far that's gotten us," said Pete, motioning to the stage where the Writers had assembled into some sort of mob.

Liz groaned. "I don't _believe_ this…"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SHOW IS CANCELLED?" Jenna shrieked. "No, no, that's impossible! That would mean - I'm not a star anymore!"

Pete swung his neck to look at her. "I knew it! Jenna, you were faking the whole time. Just to get attention!"

Jenna scoffed. "Obviously. Doctor Spaceman isn't great at keeping secrets. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to _tell_ the patient that the medication you're giving them is a placebo."

Kenneth ran up to Pete. "Mister Hornberger, I think Miss Maroney knows -"

He was interrupted by Jenna, who desperately wanted to make a point. "If I was going to quit, I would have done it like this!" She began to sing at the top of her lungs, "_I don't wanna show off no more. I don't wanna sing tunes no more_ -"

"Jenna, do you mind!?" Liz shouted. "We've got enough going on as it is, Pete and I are trying to figure some things out -"

Either Jenna didn't hear her or she didn't care as she continued to belt the song. Cameramen, sound crew, set designers, and other scrambled around in a frenzy.

_Call me, Jack,_ Liz silently pleaded.

* * *

"Thank you, Benjamin," Jack said as he headed into the building. Quickly he made his way up to the sixth floor and raised a critical eyebrow at the chaotic sight before him – set pieces being torn, crew members fighting and destroying equipment. He noticed Tracy wander onto the stage, looking confused, with Grizz and Dot Com following behind.

"What is goin' on here?" Tracy demanded.

"TGS is cancelled!" Frank yelled eagerly. "So we're taking our anger out on the set and on each other!" Tracy looked offended. "No one invited me to this anger party? That makes me very mad!" He spun around to face Grizz and Dot Com. "In order for me to contribute to this mess, I'm gonna need a flamethrower, a brick, and an oversized possum."

All of a sudden a voice boomed from the back, "CEASE!"

A hush fell over the crowd of rabid people. Tracy froze and even Jenna became silent.

"Jack!" Liz said, her face lighting up. "Thank God you're here, I need you -" She cleared her throat. "Ahem, I mean, _we_ need you."

Jack grinned. "Clearly _you_ do." He raised his head to address the swarm of people and barked, "All right, everyone. TGS is not being cancelled. You all have work to do so get to it, and stop behaving like cavemen. This is a workplace, not a zoo. Liz Lemon is your boss and I am her boss, so since you don't listen to her, you must listen to me. Get to work. And shut up, Lutz."

As everyone filed out of the room, Liz looked up at Jack and smiled. "You're my boss! That means - you're coming back!?" She couldn't help but throw her arms around him and wrap him in a hug. "Jack, I missed - I mean, _we_ missed you so much!"

He held her tightly for a moment, then pulled away from the embrace. "Don't celebrate yet, Lemon. I have to talk to Don Geiss into giving me my old job back - and into firing Johnson for good. Don't worry, I won't be long."

He disappeared and returned half an hour later to find Liz and Pete sitting on the ruined TGS stage, with Kenneth standing beside them. "Edward Cullen the cat, really?" Liz was saying. "That's just - Jack!" She rose to her feet to greet him. "How did everything go? Did you get your job back? Is that Johnson guy gone?"

Jack grinned. "Everything is taken care of. Don Geiss relocated Johnson to a remote area of Japan to produce local television there." He chuckled. "This is why Geiss and I are the ones who make executive decisions."

Pete stood up and started to walk towards the exit with Kenneth following him. "We're going to go check on Jenna and Tracy and make sure they're uh, you know, not doing anything stupid."

Liz and Jack didn't seem to hear him, since neither one of them replied. They just looked at each other for a few moments without saying a word.

Finally, Liz looked away and said, "Well, I'm sorry I made such a big mess. Thanks for - you know, everything."

Jack put a hand on her shoulder. "If you didn't screw up so badly, I wouldn't be Vice President of East Coast Television and Microwave Oven Programming again. So thank you, Lemon. It's nice to know someone has my back."

Liz smiled. "You've got it, buddy," she said, playfully punching him in the arm, "Always."

-THE END-


End file.
